Midnight Snack
by LadyGoofy
Summary: Every so often your neighbor sneaks into your house for food. (Birthday present for Silcatian) (Horrotale)


Most would say that nighttime was their favorite time of the day. Either it's because they like to stay up at those hours, have long distance friends, or even loved to sleep. For other's the possibility could be that the dark was calm and inviting, the moon gently lighting up the buildings and surfaces.

For you, however, it depended.

You hated some nights.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Well you didn't exactly HATE the night itself, but disliked what tends to happen every so often.

You and your neighbors next door were the only 3 living in the small cul-de-sac on the edge of town. Which was perfect for you. Silence. And your neighbors? Perfect, to some extent.

The creaking of your front door causes you to slow your breathing and to listen carefully. It's probably him again. He was always so quiet, knowing exactly which boards to step on and which to not. Basically the main reason why you never greased any of the doors or windows in your house. You hear a short clatter that sounded from your kitchen and you sigh. It is one of those nights.

Again.

Slipping on your house shoes and tying your robe on to keep the warmth in your body, you peek out of your room first before completely leaving it. You never know when he decides to just roam. Well, sometimes you do. The older of your two neighbors was very peculiar (actually both were strange, in a good way). The first time you found him in your house, you'd confronted him only to almost have a speared bone impale you. The second time you'd thrown a few objects at him (nothing hard that would hurt him!), that was the night you'd learned to never wake up someone that was sleepwalking.

But you had discovered your own method.

Entering the kitchen, you see him slouched on the floor, your fridge door open and the shelves within your fridge scattered and unorganized. As if he'd been rummaging but gave up halfway.

"Oh Sans."

You gently pat the side of his skull that didn't have a giant gaping cracked hole and step around him. Grabbing the tubberware from the bottom shelf that hadn't been touched yet, you peel off the lid and pop it into the microwave.

He and his brother had told you stories about their home before moving to the surface. What they had to do to survive and how hard they worked on the transition. Even to this day you watch them come from the woods with a bag obviously filled with critters they had trapped. Though you had to give them props. Your garden wasn't as often ransacked and each month the bag gets smaller. So you knew they were trying.

The beeping from your microwave pulls you from your thoughts and you pull out the tubberware with an oven mitt. Making sure that all of it was properly heated, you finally turn to your neighbor on your floor and hold the bowl beneath his nasal cavity.

Ever so slowly, he starts to perk up. When he makes the motion to grab for the bowl, you pull it away and step back.

You'd learned when it came to getting your sleepwalking neighbor out of your house with you and everything else in one piece, food was the best way to go. And it was sort of endearing to watch him follow the smell of food, every so often tripping or bumping into something.

Once he finally gets up and moves out of the way, you shut your fridge and open your back door to start leading him home.

Knowing Papyrus, the back door would still be unlocked until you get Sans home and into bed.

With some assistance from you, he finally gets down your patio steps safely and he grumbles in annoyance when you move a little too far from him. He's lucky that it wasn't too cold out tonight or he'd be hearing about it in the morning.

Opening the gate between your's and their yards you quickly make your way to their back door and shove it open with your foot just to watch a giant chefs clever impale itself into the door frame.

With a bit of struggling with balancing the bowl in one hand and trying to pry the clever from the frame, you were finally able to wrench it out while just barely catching your self before accidentally popping Sans in the face with his own clever.

Sighing, you finally walk in. Tossing the clever onto the counter and grabbing a fork and bottle of ketchup you lead Sans further into the house and shut the door behind him.

Now all you had to do was get him into bed and go home. But you still had to get past your biggest enemy.

The stairs.

Once he catches up to you you gently take his hand into yours and start leading him up step by step. This was another thing you could enjoy while this happened. It was a rare occasion that you ever touched the eldest of the two, but when he was awake and you did he'd watch you closely. As if he were studying any type of reaction that you might have. It always caused you to become flustered and to avoid touching him at all costs.

Before passing Papyrus' room, you peek your head in to check on him. He was snoring gently while his long limbs barely fit the frame of his race car bed. Giggling, you sit the bowl on a side table next to Sans' door and quickly grab a spare blanket from the chest at the foot of Papyrus' bed to cover the bottom portion of his legs and feet.

Quietly shutting his door, you make it back to Sans before he reaches the bowl and pick it up to lead him to bed. When you get him close enough, you gently shove him till he topples onto the surface and leave the bowl and ketchup on his bedside table. After that you cover him up, tuck him in, and pull out the bed tray you've been loaning him.

Double checking that everything was taken care of, you kiss the crown of his skull and close his door to finally head home to get in bed.

 _New message X/X/XX 6:47 a.m._  
 _Sans:_  
 _thanks buddy. it's not common that i get something sweet late at night. oh and the food was good too._


End file.
